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Saying “I love you” isn’t enough anymore. I need to grow old with you

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A Butterfly Dead in Pinned Position

I want to be dainty Soft, helpful I want to be out of the way Polite, careful

I want to be easy for you To use, discard I will lay perfectly for you To disregard

I will not curl up and cross My feet like I'm supposed to I will lay flat, outstretched Like a specimen is posed to

A butterfly in pinned position I will pass the most conveniently So you have to do nothing to me Wings pulled back obediently

I will not make this hard for you You won't have any extra struggle Because as my dying wish I hope I won't cause you any trouble

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— David Cronenberg, Consumed

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Anatomy of the Heart; and She Had a Heart! (1890)

— by Enrique Simonet

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Empty parking lot poetry

Grocery store aisle poetry

Leather couch poetry

Silent room poetry

Highway poetry

Movie room poetry

Bathroom poetry

How much of my life

Can I spend

Writing about my life

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Sunglasses

You shine so brightly- I could pluck out my own eyes and place them elsewhere. Perhaps a jar? Your ultraviolet rays leave me burned beyond recognition. I could have an entire sheet of polarized glass, but still not block you out. Holes in my head are useless. Maybe I need another?

15.02.2024 - R

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I cough up the hairs of his beard, as if they grew from my stomach

Pieces of him linger,

deep inside of me they raise.

I have the teeth of his, grown skewed;

they raise past my gums with vexation.

I have the hair of his, bred thick;

they raise deeper into flesh with wrath.

I have the eyes of his, fostered blue;

they raise harsher into stares with flame.

They raise above,

the pieces he rotted inside me.

The anger that molded my soul and being;

They raise from my throat with a scream.

I cough him up, two spit slick fingers shoved down my throat

'Get him out.' I yell, 'He didn't grow this flesh'

Yet I pull that single, brown hair from my stomach.

And it always grows back.

#words words words #poems and poetry #poetry #poet #short poem #original poem #spilled words #spilt ink #spilled ink #poems #poems and quotes #poems on tumblr

[mxa13xx]

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may we carry our scars to tomorrow ── judas h. (image id in alt)

[mxa13xx]

Light licks windows like

Little envelopes of joy

The way a room opens

Into a smile

A pause, a prayer, belief matters

Little when the world splits

Into prisms, I palm the pieces

Into winter pockets

There is a peace, I promise

Beyond despair, arms that ache

To hold you close

A face just like the sun

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The Crickets Have Arthritis

It doesn’t matter why I was there, where the air is sterile and the sheets sting. It doesnt matter that I was hooked up to this thing that buzzed and beeped every time my heart leaped like a man who’s faith tells him God’s hands are big enough to catch an airplane, or a world. It doesn’t matter that I was curled up like a fist protesting death Or that every breath was either hard labour or hard time Or that I’m either always too hot or too cold. Doesn’t matter because my hospital roommate wears star wars pajamas And he’s 9 years old. His name is Louis, and I don’t have to ask what he’s got- The bald head with the skin and bones frame speaks volumes. The gameboy and the feather pillow booms like they’re trying to make him feel at home Because he’s going to be here awhile. I manage a smile the first time I see him and it feels like the biggest lie I have ever told So I hold my breath cos I’m thinking any minute now he’s going to call me on it. I hold my breath because I’m scared of a 57 pound boy hooked up to a machine because he’s been watching me And maybe I’ve got him pegged all wrong, like maybe he’s bionic or some shit So I look away like just I made eye contact with a gang member Who’s got a rap sheet the length of a lecture on dumb mistakes politicians have made I look away like he’s going to give me my life back the moment I’ve got something to trade I damn near pull out my pack and say, “Cigarette?” But my fear subsides in the moment I realize Louis is all show and tell He’s got everything from a shotgun shell to a crows foot And he can put them all in context. Like, “See, this is from a shooting range.” And “See, this is from a weird girl.” I watch his hands curl around a cuff-link and a tie-tack And realize that every nick-nack is a treasure and every treasure has a story And every time I think I can’t handle more he hits me with another story He says, “See, this is from my father.” “See, this is from my brother.” “See, this is from that weird girl.” “See, this is from my mother.” Took me about two days to figure out that weird girl is his sister It took him about two hours after she left for him to figure out he missed her. And they visit every day And stay well past visiting hours Because for them that term doesn’t apply. But when they do leave, Louis and I are left alone And he says “The worst part about being sick is that you get all the free ice cream you ask for.” And he says “The worst part about that is realizing there is nothing more they can do for you.” He says “Ice cream can’t make everything okay.” And there is no easy way of asking And I know what he’s going to say But maybe he just needs to say it So I ask him anyways. “Are you scared?” Louis doesn’t even lower his voice when he says, “Fuck yeah.” I listen to a 9 year old boy say the word fuck like he was a 30 year old man with a nose-bleed being lowered into a shark tank- He’s got a right to it. And if it takes this kid a curse word to help him get through it Then I want to teach him to swear like the devil’s sitting there taking notes with a pen and a pad But before I can forget that Louis is 9 years old he says, “Please don’t tell my dad.” He asks me if I believe in angels And before I realize I don’t have the heart to tell him, I tell him, “Not lately.” And I just lay there waiting for him to hate me But he doesn’t know how to, so he never does Louis loves like a man who lived in a time before God gave religion to men and left it to them to figure out what hate was He never greets me with silence Only smiles and a patience I’ve never seen in someone who knows they’re dying And I’m trying so hard not to remind him I’ll be out of here in a couple days Smoking cigarettes and taking my life for granted. And he’ll still be planted in this bed like a flower that refuses to grow I’ve been with him for 5 days and all I really know Is that Louis loves to pull feathers out of his pillow And watch them float to the ground Almost as if he’s the philosopher inside of the scientist ready to say, “It’s gravity that’s been getting us down.” The truth is: there’s not enough miracles to go around, kid. And there’s too many people petitioning God for the winning lotto ticket. And for every answered prayer, there’s a cricket with arthritis And the only reason we can’t find answers is because the search party didn’t invite us And Louis, right now the crickets have arthritis So there is no music, no symphony of nature swelling to crescendos As if ripping halos into melodies that can keep a rhythm with the way our hearts beat So we must meet silence with the same level of noise that the parents of dying 9 year old boys make When they take liberties in talking with heaven We must shout until we shatter in our own vibrations Then let our lives echo and grow, Echo and grow, Grow distant Grow distant enough to know that as far as our efforts go, we don’t always get a reply But I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left I’m going to remember you kid I’m going to tell your story as often as every story you told me And every time I tell it I’ll say, “See, there’s bravery in this world There’s 6.5 billion people curled up like fists protesting death But every breath we breathe has to be given back A 9 year old boy taught me that.” So hold your breath, the same way you’d hold a pen when writing Thank You letters on your skin To every tree that gave you that breath to hold And then let it go, as if you understand something about getting old and having to give back Let it go like a laugh attack in the middle of really good sex The black eye will be worth it Because what is your night worth without a story to tell? And why wield a word like worth if you’ve got nothing to sell? People drop pennies down a wishing well, so the cost of a desire is equal to that of a thought But if you’ve got expectations, Expect others have bought your exact same dream For the price of a ‘hard work, hang in, hold on’ mentality Like, I accept any challenge so challenge me Like, I brought a knife to this gun fight, but the other night I mugged a mountain so bring that shit, I’ve had practice. Louis and I cracked this world wide open And found that the prize inside is we never lied to ourselves Never told ourselves that we’d be easy or undemanding So we sing in our own vibrations And dare angels to eavesdrop and stop midflight to pluck feathers from their wings And write demands that God’s hands take the time to catch you So, even if God doesn’t, it wasn’t because we didn’t try I don’t often believe in angels But on the day I left Louis pulled a feather from his pillow and said, “This is for you.” I half expected him to say, “See, this is the first one I grew.”

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Really excited to watch this tomorrow! We need more bug-minded people! 🥰🪲

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I tuck my love into the soft

blanket of your smile and

caress the light of your heartbeats

with my blushing soul as your

desires curl into mine's basking

in the warmth of your embrace

and the peppered sunshine of

your scent as spring unfurls

within me as my butterfly

laughter slips dawning between

your majestic lips as day gently

breaks between the sighs of our

kiss blooming green amid the

haze of winter blues

-J.Wool, Amid the Winter Blues, Breaths of the Soul

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I wish yours were the keys I'd cling mine against when I threw them on the counter coming home.

#spilled words #love poetry

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Love knows no struggle

Love knows only self growth and peace

Lust brings struggle

So many people seem to not understand this

Blindly choosing misery and pain

Always avoiding to acknowledge their mistakes

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redrew my i almost do mattfoggy comic from forever ago…its 5am but i like this one a lot better than the og

#mattfoggy